Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 959 - 37: The Hunt (Part 8)

Chapter 959 -37: The Hunt (Part 8)

[Outside the Hunting Circle]

The hunting grounds were like a boiling volcano crater, with signals of smoke, glares of fire, the sound of hooves, and the whizz of arrows.

Mad beasts stampeded in every direction, even breaking through several felt walls; the Herder hunters who could not escape in time were trampled underfoot, screaming as they vanished.

In the dust kicked up by the horses’ hooves, Herders and Herders were also killing each other.

However, the people of Iron Peak County could only hear the screams and the clashing of weapons; they couldn’t see anything clearly.

Without any warning, Vashka’s Warhorse let out a frantic neigh. It reared up on its hind legs, savagely kicking out at old Sergei.

If not for Colonel Moritz’s swift reaction in pushing old Dusack down, Sergei’s skull would have been kicked to pieces.

It wasn’t easy for Vashka on horseback either; he gripped the reins tightly and clamped his legs around the horse’s ribs, struggling to subdue the suddenly uncontrollable Warhorse.

People nearby scattered to give Vashka space. However, the Warhorse leaped and stamped violently, tossing Vashka from the saddle before running away.

Vashka fell heavily and instantly lost consciousness. Old Sergei cried out and rushed to his son.

The delegation from Iron Peak County and the people from the vile lands gathered their members, instinctively distancing themselves from each other.

Koshach, with two hunters, came rushing over, stopping twenty paces away to warn the people of Iron Peak County: “Horses! Horses!” He then quickly returned to the ranks of the vile lands.

Pierre didn’t need Koshach’s warning to notice the abnormal behavior of the Warhorses.

Even the gentlest riding horses, at that moment, had become restless and agitated.

Pierre’s mount drooled from the mouth, constantly pawing the ground with its hooves, trying to attack any of its kind that came close.

“Dismount!” Pierre decisively ordered: “Pull down the felt walls!”

The delegation members selected by Winters quickly dismounted and secured the hitching posts for the horses outside the crowd.

Those who had secured their Warhorses immediately began to dismantle the felt walls, constructing a makeshift barricade with wooden stakes, ropes, and leather.

“Please rest here for a moment,” Colonel Moritz calmly positioned Anna in the middle of the formation, apologizing gracefully: “Forgive me for leaving briefly.”

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Anna did her best to appear calm, nodding with a smile.

Swords unsheathed, guns on ropes, the Iron Peak County Delegation erected two layers of caltrops, remaining vigilant by the temporary felt walls.

Pierre proactively sought instructions from Colonel Moritz: “Please give your orders, Colonel.”

“The water has been purposely muddied. Let’s wait for it to clear before we act,” Moritz took out an arrowhead, found its balance point, and casually shot it away: “Hold the fort here, kill anyone who approaches.”

…

[Inside the Hunting Circle]

Winters carefully placed Little Lion on the back of the horse.

Just now, Little Lion was a couple of arrows’ distance from him; Winters hadn’t seen what injured Little Lion. He only heard a thunderous boom, and then Little Lion disappeared in the smoke.

Arriving at the scene, the lingering smell of gunpowder smoke confirmed Winters’s suspicion—the assassin had used firearm weapons.

It could be heavy artillery or a grenade; either way, it had far exceeded the limits that Little Lion had informed him about.

“How could the Red River Tribe allow outsiders to set up heavy artillery right under their noses?”

“Who could have hidden a grenade on Little Lion?”

All sorts of questions filled Winters’s mind, only to be suppressed by more pressing matters. There was no time for questioning or accountability; keeping Little Lion alive was the priority.

With unclear enemy positions, numbers, and identities, there was only one place that could be considered safe in the hunting grounds—Qingqiu Hill.

Little Lion gradually sank into a semi-conscious state, even unable to articulate a single complete sentence. He groaned over and over: “[In Herde Language] Wolf… wolf…”

Hoofbeats approached again; three white-armored Cavalry burst into the smokescreen. Seeing Little Lion covered in blood and uncertain whether he was alive or dead, the three white-armored Cavalry dismounted in panic and crowded around.

“Back off!” Winters, holding his lance straight, aimed at the newcomers.

The young white-armored Cavalry on the right flared up in anger, pulling out his saber.

“[In Herde Language] Stop! Seek not death!” The leading white-armored Cavalry forcefully grabbed the saber-drawer back, shouting sternly: “[In Herde Language] Let Batu protect Little Lion! Little Lion trusts Batu!”

After speaking, the leading white-armored Cavalry forcefully patted his chest, then pointed towards Qingqiu Hill.

Although neither party could understand what the other was saying, the information conveyed by body language was sufficient.

Winters nodded, indicating for the three to go ahead.

After just a few steps, an odd sound that penetrated the noise reached Winters’s ears.

The strange sounds were like whistle calls, like sobs, like the song of cicadas; yet upon careful discernment, they resembled none in particular.

The strange sounds lasted only briefly, but Winters was certain they were not illusions. The youngest of the three white-armored Cavalry—the one who drew his saber—was also searching for the source of the sound.

The other two older Cavalry showed no reaction at all.

The surroundings grew increasingly eerie; the smoke did not dissipate but became thicker and more extensive, engulfing them all.

Winters stopped in his tracks—something else was coming!

Startled herds fled blindly, hunters of various tribes fought independently; chaos reigned inside and outside the hunting grounds, with hooves thundering, roars, and clashing sounds all blended together.

Despite the expected tumult, Winters detected an odd sense of silence.

All sounds seemed to come from a distance; he heard nothing close by. The rampaging herds ran aimlessly without direction, yet they unanimously avoided the area where Winters was. It was as if some terrifying creature lurked nearby, scaring away all the wild beasts.